"Okay let's run through this scene one more time and then we'll set up for the bedroom scene," the director said, putting his headphones back on and sitting down in his chair. "Quiet on set!" he yelled.

I tried to get my mind into the scene and character and block out the thoughts of Brenley that had been swimming through my head ever since our conversation over break. I took a deep breath in and let it out.

'I'm a CIA operative and I have to protect the president and prevent his assassination. I have to talk to my wife about it and explain that I might die,' I told myself.

"Scene 2 - Take 3," a set assistant said, clicking the clapperboard down and the director yelled, "Action!"

I walked into the door of our movie set house and went into the kitchen, finding my wife sitting at the table peeling potatoes. I kissed the top of her head and laid a hand on her shoulder, before slinking down into the chair beside her.

"Long day sweetheart?" she asked.

I took a deep breath in and let it out. "The longest" I said, leaning forward and rubbing my hands over my face. Then I looked over at her. "We need to have a serious talk Helen."

"What about?" she asked with worry.

"Well, there are things going on right now," I said looking into her eyes. "You know I'm not allowed to give you details, but there's a good chance that one day soon I won't make it back home. My seat at this dinner table will sit empty and you'll have to raise the kids without me."

"What do you mean? Don't talk like that," she said, scrunching her eyebrows with tears welling up in her eyes. "I love you more than life itself. If I lose you, the kids will be orphans because I'll die too. I can't live without you," she sobbed, with tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," I said, getting choked up as a tear ran down my cheek too. "We both knew what I was signing up for when I took this job. It's my duty to take a bullet to protect my president and that's what I'll do when that time comes."

"No," she sobbed, clinging to me, crying against my chest.

"You'll be okay Helen," I said, holding her in my arms. "They'll give you a big check and a plaque and a medal to hang on the wall and you'll have stories to tell our kids about how their Daddy sacrificed himself to save the President of the United States. Kids will read about me in history books."

She threw her arms around my neck and sobbed into my shoulder.

"I don't want plaques or medals or stories to tell," she sobbed. "I just want you," she said, lifting her head and looking into my eyes.

She crashed her mouth against mine and kissed me desperately through her tears.

I tried to stay in the moment in character, blocking out the guilt I felt about kissing another woman but it wouldn't go away. I didn't want to kiss anyone else but Brenley, not anymore.

"Cut! Take five," the director called and I sat up straight and let out an exhale, running my hands through my hair, before getting up and pacing the floor.

I didn't even notice the director getting out of his chair and walking over to me.

"Hey, what's gotten into you Dylan? You seem a little off today," he said, grabbing a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it up, blowing smoke into the air.

I let out an exhale and looked at him. "Yeah. Sorry man. I'm just getting in my head about the scene coming up." I lowered my voice and said, "I'm sort of seeing somebody and kissing and getting practically naked and pretending to have sex with somebody else feels really wrong. I'm trying to stay in character and block those thoughts out but it's really hard man. I've never felt like this about anybody before. I think I'm falling in love."

He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew smoke in the air, shaking his head. "Well, that's what professional actors do. You know that. They have sex scenes with other women even when they're in love or married. Why do you think Hollywood relationships never last? That's just part of this job."

I stood there, clasping my hands over my head and pacing the floor. I had never had a problem kissing or having love scenes with other women in any of my other relationships, but Brenley was different. My head was spinning as I wrestled with it.

"Look, we can't cut the sex scenes out of this movie just because you're falling in love. They're integral to the plot and I want them to be super realistic. I want them fucking Oscar worthy Dylan, so you've gotta block all that other shit out."

I nodded. I knew he was right.

"I'm going to give you fifteen minutes. Go sit down and read through the script and do whatever you have to do to get your head back in the fucking game man. You're not Dylan Chase. You're Johnson Weaver. It's 1956 and you're a CIA operative that wants to bang his wife one last time before he dies to save his President."

"Alright," I nodded, letting out an exhale as I took the script from him and walked away. He was right. I needed to get my head back in the game.

"Cut! That's a wrap for the day folks," the director said. I got up out of the bed where I was laying completely naked except for a modesty sock they put over my junk and my co-star was topless, laying on my chest with only a small flesh colored panty on that they would remove in post-production.

I walked over and slipped on a white bath robe and tied it around my waist before heading across the lot towards my trailer. I had hoped Brenley would be waiting for me there, but I was disappointed when she wasn't. I checked my phone and saw a text from her.

'

I threw the phone onto the table and stripped off the robe, getting in the shower to wash off the stage makeup and oils they rubbed on my muscles to make them stand out even more for that love scene. I got dressed and headed out to the lot where my motorcycle was parked and headed home. Of course with my luck it decided to start pouring down rain a few blocks from the house and I ended up drenched by the time I pulled in the garage.

I got inside and yelled, "Brenley!" as I took a towel out of the laundry room and dried my hair off with it.

I looked out the back door and saw the lights were off in the guest house.

I texted her.

It took a minute before I got a text back.

''

I went outside, rushing through the pouring down rain and over to the guest house, going through the front door and bounding up the stairs to her room where I stopped with water dripping down my face. The bouquet of red roses I sent her were laying on her bed with an envelope that said, 'Dylan' on the outside propped against it. I looked around and noticed all her stuff was gone.

I walked over and opened the envelope and inside was a folded letter. What I read when I opened it absolutely crushed me as I sat down on the bed slowly.

Dylan,

By the time you read this letter I'll already be up in the air on my way back to Iowa. I got my flight changed to today and didn't tell you because I knew you'd try to convince me to stay and I don't know if I would've been strong enough to say no. I'm in tears as I write this because saying goodbye to you is seriously the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I want you to know that I think you're an amazing man Dylan, and not because of the way you look or because you're famous. It's because of the person you are on the inside. I've never felt a connection like I feel with you with any man. If our circumstances had been different we could've had an amazing life together but sadly they're not and that's nobody's fault. I guess it just wasn't meant to be for us. Whoever the woman is that ends up with you is going to be so lucky because I know you'll be an amazing husband and father one day because you have such a good heart. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to say bye to your face so I could give you one last hug and kiss, but you have no idea how hard this is for me. I hope all the best for you Dylan.

Love,

Brenley

I sat there reading the letter over again, staring at it in disbelief. I couldn't believe she was already gone. I had expected to have more time with her. She was right. I was going to do everything I could to convince her to stay, to be my girlfriend, and move in with me. I had only known her a week but it felt like so much longer. The crazy thing was, I could've pictured her eventually becoming my wife and having my babies. I can honestly say I never saw that possibility with any other woman before so that was a huge deal.

And now she was gone and here I was, alone. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and burying my face in my hands.